Just Another Case
by Nimmireth
Summary: Just another case that Jordan would do anything to solve. Rating subject to change.
1. Allison Kleeman

**Disclaimer: **I wish I owned _Crossing Jordan_… Oh, the things I could do with that show…

**Summary:** Just another case that Jordan would do anything to solve…

**Author's Note: **Yet another story that's been beating my head for a loooooooong time…got the idea after _Lost Family _but the story evolved right around that time when _Oh, Brother Where Art Thou? _aired. Always, always, ALWAYS review! Review, review, review…nuff said. subliminal messagingREVIEWsubliminal messaging ENJOY!

**Just Another Case **

_Chapter 1: Allison Kleeman _

By: Nimmireth

Paperwork was so _annoying. _It was tedious and time-consuming, and that's why Jordan hated it so much. She was sitting at her desk, pen in hand, and falling asleep. She wanted to make a break for it; escape the wrath of paperwork and beg Nigel to find some ballistics. She was just about to run when her boss entered the doorway.

"You know, I'm sure you have to write on the paper instead of pretending to use the restroom in order to finish paperwork," he advised.

"Why, Garret, why do you always have to foil my plans of mass destruction?" she wondered jokingly.

"I don't know, maybe it's because you have to finish a _month's _worth of paperwork," he explained.

"Well, I—" her cell phone began to bleep. "Cavanaugh," she informed her caller. A pause. "O.K. I'll be there in ten minutes," and closed her phone. "That was Woody; there's a dead woman found down at the beach. Woody said that the man who found her called 9-1-1, but she was obviously dead."

"That's always good," said Garret sarcastically.

"Tell me about it," replied Jordan. "I'm going to meet Woody and see what I can find."

"Good luck."

"Thanks, I might need it."

**_JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ_**

"Woody! What do we have here?" Jordan called out to the young, attractive detective.

"Another Jane Doe found by the rocks and lots of blood. Need more be said?" Woody questioned the medical examiner. "I need you to look at the body so we know more."

She walked up to the corpse and her eyes became huge. This woman had an enormous skull laceration and plenty of defensive wounds. Her clothes were torn apart and there was blood everywhere. "Well," she began. "At least this girl put up quite a fight…"and listed all of the injuries found on this Jane Doe. Jordan lifted up the girl's light blue sweatshirt began to empty the pockets. Conveniently, the first thing she pulled out was the girl's wallet. "Woody! Woody, I found her wallet!" she told the cop, who leaned over her shoulder to see who their Jane Doe was. Jordan flipped through the many pictures of this girl with her friends and family, even a picture from her wedding; but the last picture could've killed her. That same girl was in a hospital bed next to her husband. She was holding a newborn baby girl.

"Oh my god," Woody whispered. "She had a kid."

Jordan began to get really angry. "I'm going to find the guy who killed her; make no mistake, I _will _find him."

"Calm down, Jordan, we still don't even know who she is yet," he told her, taking the wallet and pulling out the girl's driver's license. "Allison Cristina Kleeman, born May 2nd, 1979; she was only 26 years old."

"Had a husband and a child. Who would take someone's life like that?"

"My guess is that that's a rhetorical question," Woody implied.

She ignored his comment. "Let's see what we what we can do for her at the morgue; try and find out who killed her."

**_JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ_**

"Please tell me you found something good," Woody begged.

"Now, Woodrow, when have we ever let you down, love?" Nigel wondered.

"You found something?"

"Of course I did," Nigel said, feeling dejected that Woody ignored his question. "Liver temp. says that she's been dead for 3-5 hours; making time of death around 5 to 7 a.m."

Jordan continued. "A single stab wound to her left side and powdery residue all over her torso, and that is being tested now. Nigel is working on tox screens and I am even more pissed off to inform you that she was raped."

"You're kidding?"

"Nope. I took a semen sample that should be going to your crime labs."

Woody groaned just before his cell phone began to ring. "This is Hoyt," he said into the mouthpiece. A pause. "Great…Thanks, I'll be there in five minutes," and he disconnected. "That was Boston P.D. They say that they have Professor Collin Moon in one of the Interrogation rooms to get a statement."

Jordan never heard his name before. "Who is Collin Moon?"

"The guy who called 9-1-1, they want to rule him out of our list of suspects; care to join me?"

"Sure…I'd love to," she replied and didn't wait a second more.

**_JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ_**

"Hello, Professor Moon, I'm Detective Woody Hoyt. I know that you didn't hurt Allison, but it's just standard procedure that you make a statement; so, with that said, can you tell us what happened when you found Allison's body?" Woody interrogated him.

"I was just walking along the beach when I noticed an odd shape on the rocks. I was curious, so I went to go investigate. When I saw it was a woman, I began to freak out. I had no idea what to do, so I did the only thing I could; I called 9-1-1," he replied calmly; a little too calmly in Jordan's opinion.

She was on the other side of the two-way mirror and saw everything that was going on inside of the glass. What she saw got her a little confused. He was acting way too calm for a person who just found a dead body as they were walking by on the beach. His grey hair laying perfectly flat on his head, glasses reflecting his emotionless eyes, and his facial expression was flat…there was no other word for it; it was just…flat. She noticed some scratches on his arm, as well. She finally snapped out of it when Woody asked the next question. "Did you know Allison Kleeman beforehand?"

"No," was all he said in his deep and aged voice which sounded almost evil. There was definitely something up with this guy. "The beach is really close to Boston University so I just go there to relax sometimes."

Jordan's cell phone rang. "Cavanaugh."

"Guess what, love? I've got that powdery residue we found on Allison identified; turns out its chalk."

Realization slapped Jordan in the face. "You mean chalk like the stuff that teachers use?"

"Yes, love. As in the chalk that teachers use."


	2. Hoping for Answers

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters of _Crossing Jordan. _Anything else?

**Author's Note: **Big thanks to all of the three people who reviewed hinthint**_REVIEW_**hinthint Here is chapter numero dos…

**Just Another Case **

_Chapter 2: Hoping for Answers _

By: Nimmireth

The second Woody entered the observation room, Jordan began to ramble her theory. "Woody, he had something to do with this," she began.

"Oh boy, here we go," he complained. "What now, Jordan?"

"You know that powdery substance we found on Allison? Turns out its chalk; you know, like the chalk that teachers use," she explained.

"O.K. Wonderful. So…this guy who doesn't even know who Allison is just wakes up and decides 'Oh, I feel like raping and killing someone today,'" he pondered sarcastically.

"Woody, he's lying," she told him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"How are you going to prove it, Jordan?"

"I don't know," she told him sadly. "But I will find a way. I know he did this!"

"Yeah…sure. Call me when you find something," he told her. He then patted her on the shoulder before leaving.

_I will find a way, _she told herself.

**_JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ_**

The house was small, but perfect for a family of three; blue painted wooden planks, white shutters and a white door with a wreath that had lavender, lilies and a beautiful red rose in the exact center. Jordan went up and rang the doorbell.

Seconds later, a brown-haired, olive-skinned, blue-eyed soul was opening the door and set his eyes upon Jordan for the first time in his life. "May I help you?" he asked her.

"You're Derik Kleeman?"

"Yes, that's me."

"My name is Jordan Cavanaugh. I am part of the Massachusetts medical examiner's office. I just need to ask some follow-up questions about your wife, Allison," she politely explained.

"Sure, what do you need to know?" he asked sadly.

"Did Allison know a man named Collin Moon?"

The answer was not what she wanted to hear. "I'm not sure. I don't think so, but I've heard that name before."

"He was the man who found your wife at the beach."

He nodded. "Of course, now I remember. We were at the beach when I identified her. He was so kind to me. He asked me how I was doing, how Nicole—our daughter—was doing, offering me comfort, etc."

Another answer she didn't want to hear. She sighed. "Did you tell him anything about what happened to her?"

"No, he seemed to know more than I did."

That could be something. "Do you know if she took chemistry in college?"

"No. All I know is that she majored in the English department, she wanted to be a teacher," he told her.

"Did she work on the campus at Boston University?"

"No, but that's where she went to school."

Unsatisfied with his answers, she thanked him. "Thank you and I'm very sorry for your loss, Mr. Kleeman."

"I appreciate it. Good-bye, Dr. Cavanaugh."

_**JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ**_

She was absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent certain that Professor Collin Moon was the culprit. But there were two problems; one, she didn't know how to prove it; two, there was no connection between them at all. She needed his DNA. That was the only way to prove it; DNA never lies. And she would get it; no matter what it takes she would get it. Whether it be with a warrant or without, whether he offered it or not; some way, some how, she was going to get it.

And that was why she left her office to go to Boston University: to get what she needed.

Once she arrived she found her way to the chemistry room and it brought back so many memories: she got a 95 on the first exam and Olivia Jenkins wouldn't talk to her for days because she 'messed up the bell curve'; she was walking down to her seat and the stupidest guy in the class, David Franco, pinched her butt; even the time when some random guy in the class who she didn't even know existed walked up to her before class and asked her to marry him. 'Nice try,' she had said to him.

She was so focused on her college memories that she didn't even realize a man walking out of his office to go get something to eat. "Oh, I wasn't expecting any visitors. What can I do for you?" he asked in a well-displayed cheerful voice.

"You are Professor Collin Moon, am I correct?"

"Yes, indeed. That would be me."

"I just wanted to ask a couple of questions about Allison Kleeman's death," she told him.

"Oh yes," she said with a sad face. Jordan figured he was faking it. "A terrible, terrible thing to happen to a wonderful child like her."

"A wonderful child? Did you know her?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

"No," he said; plain and simple.

She let it go. "Did you know if she even went to this school?"

"Yes. She majored in the English department next door. I've heard many things from my fellow colleague, Mrs. Hydlow. She told me so much about Allison; Janet absolutely adored her," Collin said with a smile on his face.

"She _told_ you about her?" Jordan asked, appalled.

"Yes. Like I said, Janet _adored _her. She believed that Allison was a model student and hasn't had anyone quite like her since she graduated."

Now she didn't want to keep beating around the bush. She put down a little pack that she was carrying. "May I have a DNA sample?" she asked him.

"No," he told her before leaving his classroom to go get lunch.

_I am going to get his DNA, no matter what it takes, _she assured herself. _I will. _

**_JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ_**

Maybe, just maybe she could find something out from this English teacher. And now Jordan was in Mrs. Janet Hydlow's English classroom waiting for her to come out of her office.

A young, blonde woman answered the door after Jordan knocked. "Hi, can I help you?"

"You are Mrs. Hyldow?" Jordan asked.

"Yes. What can I do for you?"

"Do you remember a student named Allison Kleeman?"

"Well, her name was Dunsford at the time, but of course I remember her. She graduated at the top of her class. She was kind, smart and quite a character, everyone loved her. Why do you ask?"

Jordan hesitated. "There's no easier way to tell you this, but she's dead."

Mrs. Hydlow gasped. "What! What happened to her?"

She also was reluctant to answer this question as well. "She was raped, and then murdered."

Her eyes grew. "Who would do something like that?"

"I don't know. That's why I wanted to ask you some questions about her."

"Alright."

"You told Collin Moon about her?"

She got real quiet after that. "Did he kill her?"

Again, Jordan said "I don't know."

"I swear I did not tell him of my own free will!"

"What do you mean?" Jordan asked.

Mrs. Hydlow then invited her inside and closed the door. "He made me. He made me tell him those things. He made me spy on her."

"What? How?" Jordan questioned.

She looked around as if checking to make sure that no one was watching. Then slowly, she lifted up her shirt until it reached her chest; there were huge marks that were black and blue and little mini scratches. Jordan went to get a closer look. "Collin Moon did this to you?" Janet nodded. "Why?"

"He thought that Allison was perfect for him. He wanted her so badly, it was disgusting. Who wouldn't? She was smart and beautiful; but then he had to punch me in order to even know her name, scratch me to know what year she was, and I had to get stitches after I had to tell him whether or not she had a boyfriend."

Jordan was still trying to take the information in when she asked "What did you tell him?"

"That she was getting married to Derik Kleeman. He was not too pleased about that. And that was when he threatened to kill us both. Thankfully, that was the year Allison graduated, but he didn't stop then. He asked me to e-mail her, keep in touch with her. Anything to find out how she was doing."

"Did you ever report this abuse?" Jordan wondered, still in a state of shock.

"No, every time he hurt me he threatened to hurt my family if I said anything," she told her, petrified.

Jordan took a couple breaths as it finally sank in. "Thank you for your time. I appreciate your help."

"The pleasure is all mine," Mrs. Hydlow said as she opened the door to allow Jordan out.

5


	3. You be the Victim, I'll be the Killer

**Disclaimer: **_Crossing Jordan _does not belong to me…as much as I wish it does.

**Author's Note: **It's short, I know. But it's something. After you read, you MUST review. Constructive criticism is all right, but no flames, pweez…By the way, I HATE doing this to you guys before I leave for six weeks, but this ends in a cliffhanger. I'm just warning you, and I will be gone for six weeks so I will be leaving ya'll hanging for a month and a half. Saweez… Review anywayz…

**Just Another Case **

_Chapter 3: You be the Victim, I'll be the Killer _

By: Nimmireth

"Well, at least she wasn't a junkie; her tox screens are completely void of drugs," Nigel told Jordan.

Before Jordan could respond, Woody banged her office door open and scolded her. "Why did you go talking to a witness?"

"Umm…What are talking about?" she asked, completely bewildered.

"You, talking to Collin Moon about the case. I suppose you asked him for DNA without a warrant, am I correct?"

Jordan held up her hands in defense. "Let me explain. I was pursuing a suspect."

"Oh, you were pursuing a suspect?" he asked in a sarcastic, cheerful voice. "There's just one small problem, Jordan: _he's not a suspect! _As much as you think he is, he isn't. He has nothing to do with Allison's death. Period."

"Then explain the chalk that was found on Allison's body," she demanded.

He sighed. "She was…I don't know! It wasn't him and you know it. We all know it. He was just an innocent passerby who happened to find her body."

"What about the scratch on his arm?"

"I don't know…His cat got a little overenthusiastic when they were playing fetch!"

"Cats don't play fetch!" Jordan yelled.

Woody took a deep breath. "Jordan, there is nothing against him. I suggest that you just leave this alone and let me do my job. O.K?" He didn't even wait for an answer; he just walked right out of the office.

Jordan turned to Nigel. "What makes him think I'm going to do that?"

"Well, he is right about one thing; you have nothing against him," Nigel told her.

Jordan sighed. "I know."

**_JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ_**

"Something on your mind, Jah-dan?" Max asked his daughter later that evening at the Pogue.

Jordan sat at the outer rim of the bar, Guinness in hand. "It's just this case that's been on my mind."

She explained every detail to him. "Brutal, but it makes no sense. Why now?" He asked.

They both looked at each other and knew what the other was saying in their minds. "I'll be Allison," Jordan said.

Max nodded. "I'm Collin."

Jordan began. "It's late. I'm out walking on the beach—"

"Why?"

"I don't know; but whatever it is, there is a reason. Something important, something about the beach that helps me," she finished.

Max continued. "I come up behind you, and I hit you in the back of the head—"

"Wait!" Jordan interrupted. "She had defensive wounds. She fought…hard."

"Alright…let's try this again. I come up behind you, but you hear me."

Jordan began her bit. "I turn around. I remember you from college."

"I go up to attack you—"

"But I expected something. You scared me in college. I knew that one day you would see me again…so, I fought back."

"I didn't expect this. You surprised me… You scratch my arm—"

"But it's not good enough. When I'm down you tell me what you did to Mrs. Hydlow. You rape me. You stab me. Then you hit me in the head with something hard enough to kill me—"

"What? What did I use to hit you?"

"I don't know, but what ever it was it was hard enough to cut my skull…and I bleed to death."

"Is there any way you can tell what she was hit with by the way the wound looked?" Max asked, bringing them out of their roles as Allison and Collin.

Jordan thought, trying to picture it in her head. She remembered Allison's wound; two, claw-like marks ran horizontally across the back of her head. "Two marks ran across her head, almost like scratch marks, wider than the claws of any animal."

Then she saw it, sitting there as if it was just waiting for her to see it. A possibility for a murder weapon: a hammer. She pointed at it. "Can I see that hammer?" He gave it to her willingly. She turned it over so that she was looking at the back with the two points. She looked up at her father and nodded. "…A hammer."

He, too, nodded. "I take it that it wasn't found."

She sighed. "Nothing was found…only traces of semen on her underwear. And the cops searched high and low." But then she began thinking; what if they missed something? What if there was something there? What if the hammer was there? "You know what?" She began. "I'm going to go back there to see if they missed something. I'll see you later, Dad." She grabbed her keys and her purse and ran out to her car as fast as remotely possible.

It took only ten minutes to arrive at the beach. She left her stuff in the car and walked up to the crime scene, trying to picture it all in her head. She leaned over the rocks where Allison was found and began pulling them off of each other.

That's when she heard the sifting of sand and someone whistling to the tune of "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" by the Beatles. She stopped and began to panic. She put down the rock that she was holding and slowly turned around.

Collin Moon was standing yards away from her.


	4. Maxwell's Silver Hammer

**Disclaimer: **_Crossing Jordan _is not mine…but I want it to be.

**Author's Note: **I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK! OMG! I feel SO bad for leaving you guys hanging for a really f-ing long time! After camp ended I got lazy and didn't update but then school started and my teachers think that it's really fun to give homework and I'M SORRY! I give my deepest apologies for doing that to everyone. After you read this chapter, 1) read my author's note at the bottom and 2) REVIEW! That being said, here is chapter 4.

**Just Another Case **

_Chapter 4: Maxwell's Silver Hammer _

By: Nimmireth

Jordan's stomach sunk like a stone; she feared what was going to happen. She couldn't talk; she wanted to run, get away…escape.

But he just stood there and began to speak. "Allison was a great kid, that's what Janet told me every day. She was a smart and beautiful woman…hard to find these days, they are usually one or the other. I, personally, was devastated when I was at her graduation; I saw her throw her hat with all of her friends and that damn boyfriend of hers. She looked like she was having so much fun. I didn't want her to leave. The last thing I wanted her to see before she died was me…that was my one true wish. And it was granted by none other than myself. She was feeling vulnerable then, she and her husband were in a little argument about their daughter, Nicole. Janet told me that Allison goes to the beach to calm down. That was the best time, when she was vulnerable. But Janet helped me a lot. I learned everything I needed to know about Allison from her. I hated killing her, as well."

Jordan couldn't believe what she was hearing. She gasped and her eyes grew wide.

He took notice of her reaction. "Oh yes…I killed her, too. I hated it, but it was necessary. If it wasn't for you, no one would've found out what I was doing to her. You would've taken it to the police, told everyone what I had done. I couldn't let that happen. I knew that if they knew, then I would go to jail for the rest of my life. No, that's not going to work for me…something had to be done. And now, thanks to your curiosity, you are helping me complete this task."

From his belt pocket he pulled out the hammer while taking multiple steps towards her. Unfortunately for him, she was prepared…on her guard. He took the hammer and swung it to smash her head, but she was able to stop the blow and caught it in her hands. They both had a hold of the hammer now, each of them struggling to gain possession of it.

Jordan got it. In that one victorious moment she ran up the shoreline and threw the hammer as far as she could into the black of the water. She began to run back to her car, but Collin caught up with her. He grabbed her around the shoulders in a big bear hug and knocked her down.

She lifted up her arm and attempted to elbow the murderer, but he caught her arm and rolled her over so that she was facing him. He punched her. She felt blood leaking from her nose. She tried to blind him, but all she managed to do was get some of his skin underneath her fingernails. Angered by this, Collin grabbed both of her wrists and strattled her. He released her arms and promptly began tearing at her clothes.

She began to fight back, swinging her arms in attempt to strike her attacker. She hit him once, but then he hit her back twice. She was really dizzy, but she kept fighting.

She just barely saw him taking off his own pants. He took one hand and grasped her arms while he took his other arm and pressed down hard against her abdomen.

Then Jordan felt a sharp pain inside of her.

Jordan began to sob uncontrollably. She began to think about every one that she knew; her dad, Woody, Garret, Nigel, Bug, Lily…her family. She imagined standing next to Bug during an autopsy; glancing over Nigel matching fingerprints; talking to Lily about next of kin; badgering Garret about how little she was being paid when she was hired for the second time; role-playing with her dad to solve cases; even the time when Woody first came to Boston from Kewanee and asked her if he liked his tie. She loved every single one of them. She was going to miss them so much.

Her thoughts were broken when she heard a faint bleeping noise coming from her jacket pocket. Collin grabbed it and pulled out her cell phone. "Who is calling you?" he asked and showed her the number.

It was Garret's cell phone number. "My boss," she told him.

"What does he want?"

She gulped. "I don't know," she winced.

He thrust the phone in her direction. "Answer it," he commanded.

She flipped it open. "Cavanaugh," she said in a weak voice.

"Hey, Jordan, It's Garret. We have a car pile-up and multiple fatalities at Route 7 and Dennison. I need your help."

She cringed. "Garret, what time is it?"

"It's 2:30, why do you ask?"

"I just wanted to know. Look, Garret, I'm a little preoccupied at the moment, can you call Bug or Nigel or someone else?"

"Everyone is here already and I still need your help."

"Garret, I can't come right now."

"Is everything alright, Jordan?" he asked in his concerned voice.

"Everything's fine, I'm just a little on the busy side right now. I'll talk to you later," and hung up. She didn't even wait for an answer.

"What did he want?" Collin asked again.

"I'm on call," she began to explain with a voice that didn't sound like her own. "There was a car accident on Route 7 and Dennison. He wants me there to help him."

He laughed. "He can wait." He told her taking the phone and throwing it away from the ocean. He continued to hurt her while she cried. She would have sold her apartment to be with Garret at the car pile-up on Route 7 and Dennison. She wanted to be anywhere but the local beach. "Stop," she whispered.

"What did you say?"

"Stop. Please, don't hurt me," she begged in a quiet, timid tone.

He laughed. "A little too late for that, Dr. Cavanaugh," he told her as her punched her again.

She winced. "No. Please. Stop. Don't hurt me. Leave me alone. I'll do anything."

He chuckled again. "Oh, no. I don't need you to give me anything. I don't need anything. What I need is to stay here and watch you as you grovel. Beg for mercy. Cry like a little girl."

She sobbed. "Don't hurt me please. Please. Let me go. I won't say a thing. I won't tell anyone anything," she offered.

"As much as I like the sound of that, I don't think I can trust you into keeping it quiet. What just happened must die. You must die," he told her and pulled from his pocket a knife. A pocket knife. A red-handled, sharp, shiny pocket knife. "You were just like Allison. You fought. Then you groveled. Begged. Offered anything you could. But I would not accept. Then I took out my knife and stabbed her on her left side, went home and waited until the perfect opportunity to call 9-1-1. Now, I know what you're thinking; they'll suspect something, they'll suspect me. You told everyone you thought it was me. And when they find your body, they'll know. So I'm going to run, leave. Maybe I'll go visit my mother's grave. Then I'll live with my sister, Anna, for a while. She lives in Orlando, Florida. I'll tell her that I'm having money issues. She'll give me money; and I can get a new life: fake I.D, new house, new job, and all that other stuff. I'll be living a new and great life while you would have gotten what you deserved."

He stood up, put her clothes back on as best as he could and knelt down next to her. He rolled her over so that her left side was upward. Jordan screamed as she felt a searing pain as the knife pierced through her skin and bumped against her left hip. He heaved the knife from her side and just left her there. The sand around her slowly turned from tan to red as she bled.

Her vision became blurred and again she heard a soft bleeping noise from a distance. She got on all fours and began to crawl to it, wheezing. She felt a lump in the sand and knew she had reached her phone. She picked it up without even looking at the number. "Cavanaugh," she said, almost out of breath and gasping for air.

It was Garret again. "Jordan, I called you an hour ago. We still have a lot of fatalities. I need you here, where are you?"

Her side suddenly began to hurt more than it already did. She moaned and continued to search for air. She couldn't speak. Her eyes could only see the red of the sand and a huge hole in her hip.

"Jordan? Jordan, are you alright? Jordan! JORDAN!"

**Author's Note: **You hate me now, don't you? No flames, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease! Now just because this happened does NOT mean that you can stop reading this story. It WILL get better…I promise. Now you may review.


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